Dominating Miss Davenshaw Ch. 02

"Good morning, Miss Davenshaw."

She halted in her stride momentarily. She was somehow aware of her nipples tingling under her bra, and of what could only be described as a faint tingling between her perfectly toned legs. Her breath caught;

"Uh...good morning, Edmund," she replied.

The faint quiver in her normally confident, authoritative voice would have been missed by most but he was glad to detect this ever so subtle sign that the hypnosis still had an effect on her. This was a deeper set, more long term effect besides the short term effect of last night. Edmund couldn't help grinning at the memory of that, a memory that was, for now of course, denied to his beautiful boss.

Miss Davenshaw meanwhile tried to reconcile the annoyance of his smirk with the fact that she was, somehow, and despite herself, aroused by the sound of his voice. The possibility that he might even be aware of this effect that he was having on her only irritated her further. She resolved to give nothing way. She'd been involved in high level business negotiations for longer than many would have thought possible for a woman in her mid-thirties. This was no different. She decided to reassert herself;

"Edmund, have the report for the forthcoming trip to Zurich on my desk by noon if you would."

Her tone made it clear who the boss was.

"Of course, Miss Davenshaw."

Satisfied that she had received the professional respect that was her due, she regained her composure and strode off. Edmund watched in admiration as her heels clipped their way tersely across the thin carpet, her pert behind evident yet perfectly respectable in her sharp knee length skirt. He stirred at the memory of last night. Miss Davenshaw would be the best prize yet.

"Of course Miss Davenshaw."

She was of course aware of his eyes behind her. She was so used to admiring looks from men as she passed them and left them for dead that sometimes it barely registered. This time, however, she was very conscious of his gaze. Normally, she would have turned around and shot him a cool glance, a common tactic she used for deterring predators or competition in this cut throat jungle of London's financial district. But this time, she didn't. His voice seemed somehow to be permeating her mind, getting inside her head, putting her off. What was going on? Almost imperceptibly she quickened her pace just a little.

She tried to use the morning's business to focus herself. A few phone calls, an email, a couple of incompetent subordinates in need of a dressing down. But no matter how busy she made herself she found her eyes being drawn more and more frequently to the clock, and for midday. She didn't want to admit, not even to herself, that Edmund was beginning to have an effect on her. He'd been with the company just six months and though he seemed reasonably ok and competent she didn't see him as particularly head turning. He was a bit quiet, nobody too remarkable. So...why?

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She shook her head, snap out of it, focus! What? It was gone 12 already. He's here. I sense his voice. She must wear what!? Yes, Master I am your slave. Who does he think he is? Yes, I will only be aware when Master tells me to snap out of it...

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"With respect, snap out of it, Miss Davenshaw."

It wasn't the insubordinate tone that shocked her. As a woman at the top in this male heavy, aggressive world, she'd learned to deal with that pretty effectively. What shocked her was that she was wearing somewhat different clothes to the ones she'd come to work in. Gone was the sharp power suit and high heeled business shoes. They had been replaced by a tight leather jacket that barely covered her chest. A peephole bra offered scant protection to her thrust out breasts while the skirt she now wore was considerably more mini and significantly tighter than the one she'd worn this morning. Knee high, high heeled boots completed the picture.

"Oh my god, I look like a slut."

But that was not the worst of it. She was standing at the head of the table. Addressing the senior staff! She was uncomfortably aware of their leering grins. The sleazy thoughts of the eight men around the table were evident on their lecherous faces. Edmund, Luis, Daniel all looking at her, not as their boss, but as a piece of flesh. The professional respect that she'd fought so hard to get from them was, of course, nowhere to be seen. They looked at her exactly in the same way they must look at those strippers, call girls, and other professional (and not so professional) women that she frequently overheard them talk about.

"I...I...er...", she began to flush.

She felt so helpless, so exposed in front of these men. For once, they sensed weakness. Her normally rock solid confidence was beginning to totter in the same way that her whole body was beginning to totter in those ridiculously high heeled, fuck me, slut boots. She could see Luis, the worst of them, literally lick his lips in sleazy anticipation. She sensed water forming in her normally ice cool blue eyes.

Oddly enough, Edmund came to the rescue.

"Well, it's clear that none of our minds are completely focused on the Zurich trip right now," he said with somewhat sardonic understatement. "Shall we reconvene again at 4?"

Gratefully, she took the lifeline offered her. Mustering what composure and confidence she could, she pathetically pulled the leather jacket around her, awkwardly adjusted the tight leather skirt and sashayed ridiculously out of the room. The heels seemed to cause her breasts to bounce and her behind to wriggle provocatively. To make things worse she had to run the gauntlet of the whole of the long table to leave the room. As she left the room, low wolf whistles were replaced by increasingly loud laughter. Looking back through the transparent windows of the conference room she could see them all laughing and talking. She couldn't help noticing that many of them were coming up to Edmund, shaking his hand, slapping him on the back..

Back in the office, she allowed herself a few sobs but quickly composed herself as she heard May, her PA enter the office. It was obvious that May knew what had happened. The mixture of awkwardness and disappointment that her assistant felt was obvious on her face. She'd always admired her boss for the way she'd risen to the top and looked after herself in this testosterone charged world. How could she cheapen, degrade and humiliate herself in front of them like this? This was more than just some wardrobe malfunction.

"Can I get you anything, Miss Davenshaw.?"

"No, no thanks May." Miss Davenshaw pretended to be looking in a file, anything to avoid eye contact. "Could you give me a minute?"

Miss Davenshaw had noticed that her tears had a reddish tinge to them. Looking in her mirror she could see that her fine face had been marred by too much rouge and eyeliner while bright red lipstick seemed to scream 'blow job' to anyone who looked at her mouth. This fresh revelation caused anger, no fury, to well up within her where it merged with an equally strong feeling of humiliation and a catastrophic loss of confidence. Trapped in a moment of helpless indecision she raged around the point that much as she yearned to do something about this, she seemed, for the first time in a very long time, to lack the confidence to do it. Nevertheless, although she had just been humiliated, she had not been broken. She would find out and get payment for this. Her eyes welled but the tears broke against the wall of her inner strength.

After an hour of frustration and torment, she received a message from Edmund. The email read,

"Coming up to your office now."

Quite a presumptious way to address your CEO! But, after this morning's events, it was, she painfully acknowledged, somewhat inevitable. Hmm, Edmund. He was the last person she saw before that humiliating meeting, wasn't he? It was clear something was not right, and she had a feeling it was something to do with him.

As she waited for him, she realised to her horror that she had not yet changed back into her normal clothes! How the hell had she forgotten to do that? She didn't even want to think about the possible answers to that question. In horror, she realised she would look ridiculous confronting him like this. Meanwhile, she juggled the ferocious instinct to kill him on the spot with the need to find out what had happened to her. What he had, she was sure of this now, somehow done to her. She had even considered trying to remain calm in the interests of finding out the latter but when he just swaggered into her office without even knocking, as if he owned the place, her fury got the better of her.

The slap was hard and took him by surprise.

The second slap was less surprising but was even harder.

"You bastard what have you done? I know it's you!"

The anger and strength in her blue eyes was beautiful. To capture it, to harness it would be worth a million such slaps. He stared back into those eyes with their incredible mix of female power and vulnerability.

"You know what's me?"

"Don't give me that bullshit. You're fired you understand. Fired!"

"You can't fire me."

"I can and I have. You will tell me what you have done and then being fired will be the least of your worries."

"You cannot fire me, Miss Davenshaw. How can a slave fire her Master?"

Edmund savoured the sight as her strong blue eyes glazed over, rather like a thin sheet of fine ice covering an azure blue pool. Her anger and resistance were still visible but seemingly trapped in their icy prison. Her blonde head lolled forward as her fine lips parted ever so slightly. She stood there motionless as if her stiletto heels were somehow fixed to the ground. Edmund took a moment to appreciate the sight of this beautiful, blonde Goddess falling under his hypnotic power yet again.

"Very well slave. You will soon begin to find out what I have done to you. But first you must remember your lessons. What are they?"

It sounded like a completely different Miss Davenshaw. From within her she said,

"I am your slave. You are my Master. Your voice arouses me. Obedience brings me pleasure."

He looked for that invisible flicker of resistance in her transfixed eyes. It was enough to just sense that it was there at the bottom of the deep hypnotic pool he had immersed her in.

"Yes, good girl. And my voice is arousing you now, isn't it? In fact, it has been arousing you bit by bit, more and more, since we first met this morning."

Rooted, immobile to the spot, Miss Davanshaw's enthralled body began to feel incredible waves of arousal pulse through its insides. Involuntary, pleading moans emitted from her helpless lips.

"I know you want to touch yourself slave. You may beg for permission."

Meekly, helplessly, desperately, Miss Davenshaw dropped to her knees. Edmund couldn't help but marvel at this incredible power which had turned such a strong woman into a desperate, pleading, grovelling slave.

"Very well slave."

Miss Davenshaw moaned from within an incredible mix of frustration and pleasure. Edmund felt himself stir further as he saw her run her hands over her firm breasts and taut nipples. He watched as her hands detected the growing dampness between her legs.

"But, as you now know, slave. Only obedience can give you true pleasure,"

God, his voice was arousing her so much! It seemed to spring up from within her own mind and course through her whole body. Yes, obedience! Master please, give me a command to obey! She desperately wanted to scream it out but at the same time couldn't bear the thought of doing so. She both desperately yearned for it, and was horrified at the thought of doing it. It both defined her very being, and made her hate herself at the same time.

He saw this battle play out in her keen, strong, intelligent, and yet deeply hypnotized eyes. At his command she crawled over to him, her behind sticking up in its tight skirt.

"Now, slave, a small addition to your wardrobe."

He attached a thin, black collar around her neck. He manipulated it just enough to show her that he could make it very tight indeed before going down a notch. She could still breathe comfortably, just about, as he fastened it. He noticed a flicker of anger, or defiance, flare up in her eyes as he then produced a lead and fastened it to the collar. Miss Davenshaw was overwhelmed by an unmanageable mix of emotions. Of anger, of indignation, of humiliation, of helplessness, of defiance, of shame, but also of growing submission and arousal. The lead wasn't particularly strong, but it didn't need to be. They both knew it was merely symbolic of the growing mental chains which he had entrapped her in.

"You are my bitch," he tugged on her leash.

"I...am...your...bitch," he smiled wickedly as she tried, and failed, to resist his power.

"Would you like to go out for a walk, bitch?"

Out here? That would make her earlier humiliation seem like nothing. Led around on all fours, in these slutty clothes at the end of this leash? In front of everyone! She could never show her face here again. He tugged her again. Tears began to form, she hated herself for letting him see them. No! No! Her eyes desperately pleaded. But she knew that she would be helpless to resist his command if he so gave it. After a nanosecond of helpless resistance, her blonde head bowed in meek submission. He pulled her towards the door, her eyes looked beautiful.

His hand paused on the door handle. Her heart was in her mouth. She was completely at his mercy. Dependent on his whims.

"Perhaps, slave, you are not quite ready for that. But I am glad to see that you were ready to obey. Obedience brings pleasure."

"Yes, Master."

She was sobbing quite openly now. She was ashamed but couldn't help it. Despite herself, she found herself beginning to feel gratitude to her tormentor for saving her this latest humiliation. Looking into her eyes he could tell that he had successfully taken her down the next step to complete enslavement, where eventually she would grovel not just in fear, or through his hypnotic spell, but in gratitude. The tears trickling down her cheeks showed that he had made cracks in her defensive wall but that he also hadn't broken her entirely yet. No matter. He didn't want to break her yet. He savoured the challenge, the long process of enslaving such a beautiful, strong and intelligent woman. He'd admired her since the day he first met her. Eventually, she would be his completely.

Meanwhile, somewhat baser thoughts were swelling up at the front of his trousers. Pointing down at them he suggested that she knew how to show her gratitude for him sparing her the humiliation of a walk outside. Still showing signs of hesitation and resistance, but also this time of a kind of keenness, she unzipped him and began to suck and lick his erect cock. As he spoke, she found herself getting more and more aroused, like a bitch now conditioned to her Master's voice. Following his instructions she couldn't help but find herself feeling more and more pleasure in her own body as her lips, mouth, and then throat worshipped his throbbing manhood. She was very wet now and juice began to run down her thighs. Sensing this, he commanded her to stop and withdrew, his own cock twitching in excitement.

"Would you like me to enter you slave?"

"Yes. Yes, Master. Yes, please," The words were alien to her as she heard them yet also seemed to define her very being.

"One day, slave, when you learn complete obedience, I will give you that complete pleasure,"

"Yes, thank you, Master"

"But now you will have to make do with a smaller reward."

"Yes, Master," she moaned in desperation.

Pulling her towards him on her leash he roughly tilted her face up to him. Staring up into his eyes from down on her knees she was commanded to suck again until he told her to stop. The sight of her desperate eyes both helplessly defiant and submissively eager to please, a combination only possible under hypnosis, brought him near climax. As her lips and tongue performed for him he withdrew. Twisting her leash around his hand he exploded onto her face. His jism ran down her face in rivulets as she knelt there totally humiliated. Sated, he then commanded her to lick and suck him clean.

"Good girl."

Despite her state and to her shame she found herself pleased to have been praised by him. Strangely, despite her repressed anger she felt somehow satisfied that she had pleased him. He enjoyed the sight of her kneeling there, his cum still on her face.

"Now, Miss Davenshaw, your Master is leaving. When you hear the door close behind me you will awaken from this trance. You will have no clear memory of what has happened while you have been hypnotized but you will continue to feel aroused by the sound of my voice and aroused at the very thought of me. You will also continue to associate your obedience with your own pleasure."

"Yes, Master."

Satisfied, Edmund left. Miss Davenshaw continued to kneel.